Heroes and Saviors
by Ederek Cole
Summary: A cross-over of a comic I'm writing and Heroes.
1. Chapter 1

This is a crossover of a comic I'm making and Heroes. The new characters (and their powers) are:

Josh: He has wings.

Tyler: Pyrokinesis

Clay: Intangible

Cameron: He can regenerate

Anthony: Teleportation

Eric: Telekinesis

Lindsey: Can morph into anything.

Faith: Can talk to the dead and turn herself into a zombie.

Megan: Full-fledged telepathy.

Cameron's regeneration is different than Claire's because it forces his cells to age faster. If his head is chopped of, he will grow a new one, but he'll age two years.

-Eric and Anthony are brothers

-Faith is, at the moment, living with Lindsey. She has yet to get her own house.

-Cameron and Megan are married.

-All of these people know each other from about seven years before the first episode of the third season of Heroes, which is where we begin.

Heroes and Saviors

Chapter One: Convergence

Peter ran as fast as he could, but for a moment it seemed as though he could not get away. The Haitian was still blocking his powers, and until he could shake him, Peter was doomed.

Suddenly, a door ahead of him opened. Taking just a second to look back and find out where his pursuers were, he jumped inside and slammed the door behind him. Turning to see who had helped him, he locked eyes with Claire, who held a gun pointed directly at his head.

"Claire," he began, but she cut him off.

"Don't," she said.

"I can fix it," Peter said desperately. "I can go back—change what happened, change the past!"

Claire seemed unmoved. "It's too late for that." She cocked the gun, and as she pulled the trigger, she whispered, "I always loved you."

Four years in the past, Nathan Petrelli was giving a speech which would lead to the revelation that he could, in fact, fly. Surrounded by his brother, the present Peter Petrelli, and a cop that could read people's minds, Matt Parkman, he continued, finally getting to the whole objective of his speech.

"I have the ability-"

Two shots entered Nathan Petrelli's chest, two shots that originated from the back of the room. Peter went down with his brother, making sure his head did not hit the ground, and followed the attacker with his eyes.

Clay Bingaman was across the street, at the local bank when he heard the shots being fired. The sudden roaring sound from so close by made him stop dead in his tracks as he stepped closer to the back room where the main vault was found. Abandoning all pretenses, he ran outside to find the origin of the noise. There was a rather large crowd converging on the building right across the street, so he stepped forward.

Back inside, Peter Petrelli was running full-tilt through the building, in pursuit of the gunman. The man, dressed in a black leather jacket and a ball cap, turned and disappeared into a bathroom. Peter followed right on his tail, but as he entered the bathroom, there was a distinct lack of life. The gunman was gone.

"Did you get him?" Matt Parkman said as he entered the bathroom as well.

"No," Peter said, his voice heavy with malice, "I lost him."

Clay had just entered the building when the police ran out. He followed the officers with his eyes, then turned and walked further inside.

It was obvious that something had happened, but what wasn't so clear. There was a pool of blood on the floor, and a man was being lifted onto a stretcher and rushed out the back way. Clay did not believe that following the man would help him in any way, so he stood and watched.

"Hey!" came a voice from behind him, making him jump. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" Clay turned to see who it was. It was a cop, one of the ones he had seen running through the building from outside.

"I walked," Clay retorted, not at all glad to be addressed as such. "What happened here?"

"You know Nathan Petrelli?" Clay shook his head. "He's a politician—wait, you're just a kid, you probably don't care about that stuff. Anyway, he was just shot, and we don't know where the killer disappeared to."

"Disappeared?" Clay thought for one fleeting second that Anthony might have been involved, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Anthony was more righteous than that.

"Do you know anything?" the cop said, taking a step forward. Clay shook his head.

_Well,_ Matt thought, _if you won't tell me I'll find out for myself._ He inclined his head toward the boy, trying to read his mind.

"It won't work," Clay said, rather bluntly. The cop was taken aback.

"How do you-"

"I have a friend who can read minds, too. She's already taught us how to block it out."

Matt felt a hole in the pit of his stomach. If he couldn't get any information out of this kid, then Nathan would be dealt a great injustice.

"Listen," he said. "My name is Matt Parkman. I'm a cop. I need you to tell me anything you know about what might have happened here, or a bad man is going to get away with a bad thing."

"Sorry, old man. I don't know anything about what happened here." Clay paused for a moment. "But I know someone who might."

Costa Verde was a somewhat quiet town, today especially with everyone else out of the house, but Claire Bennet could not possibly relax. Her biological father had just been shot, and her uncle was telling her to stay put. Why? It wasn't like she could die, so why did she have to stay here?

Disregarding what Peter had told her, she opened the door to her bedroom—

And came face-to-face with Sylar.

"Hello, Claire," he said, almost sounding friendly.

"What do you want?" Claire asked shakily.

"I want what you have." He took a step into the room, and was promptly bashed in the head with one of Claire's cheerleading trophies.

She ran downstairs as fast as she could, but as she ran for the door, it slammed shut. She turned to see if the windows were clear, but they too were blocked off by Sylar's power. She was trapped, and the enemy was in the house.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around her mouth. She tried to scream, but a voice that was not Sylar's quieted her.

"You need to calm down," said the man. She couldn't turn to see him, but he sounded like he was only a few years older than her. "My name is Tyler Henry, and I'm going to try to get you out of this alive."

At that point, Sylar's feet appeared in the stairwell. The man called Tyler held out his other hand, and a wall of brilliant red fire appeared at the foot of the stairs, blocking every possible way down.

"Ooh, Claire," Sylar taunted, "I didn't know you could shoot fire, too. Now I really want that lovely brain of yours."

Tyler released Claire and spun around, holding his arm not three feet from the front door when he let loose. The sturdy mahogany was blasted off its hinges as the flames seared their target. "Claire, go!" Tyler yelled, and the cheerleader promptly took his advice.

Sylar used his telekinesis to dismantle the bottom step and throw it outside, where it struck Claire in the head, knocking her out. Since that was the source of the fire, the way was now clear to go downstairs, where not one, but two excellent sources of power awaited him: the girl, and this new man in the red hooded sweater with a Japanese pyro-symbol around his neck.

Tyler held both of his arms in front of him and gave Sylar some of the hottest fire he had ever produced. According to Megan, Sylar could not yet regenerate, so if he was incinerated, Tyler doubted the man could have survived. But then again, Eric had described telekinesis as the ability to manipulate matter, so if Sylar had figured out that he could in fact deflect the flames, then Tyler and Claire were both screwed.

From behind Tyler, there came an audible _pop_, and Anthony's voice called out over the flames.

"Tyler, it's alright. Faith just spoke with Precog, Sylar is supposed to get Claire's ability. We need to go!" Anthony put his hand on Tyler's shoulder just as the pyro stopped shooting his fire. Right before they teleported, the fire died, and Sylar was unscathed.

Faith Dusky looked at Precog, the ghost she had met years earlier that could dream the future, and wondered if he had made the right call. Anthony could have saved both Tyler _and_ Claire, and there wouldn't have been much fuss. But if Precog said that something was the future, then altering that would mess everything else up.

Faith looked over at Lindsey, who was staring up at the clock. Lindsey was nervous as well. If the decision to call Tyler back was the wrong one, then they had just given the worst man since Ault an ability they did not want him to have.

And with that thought, she flashed back to Ault. The battle had taken them three days, and four of them had almost died. Ault's ability was one that they were almost unable to cope with. The ability to not only absorb people's powers, but their energy as well was something that had almost wiped half of them out. Thankfully, they had had Cameron, whose blood was enough to get them back to a stable condition, but not enough to age any of them. Cameron, whose power had made it possible to go inside Ault when he had become a dragon, and cut out the villain's heart.

Was Sylar the next Ault?

Anthony and Tyler appeared out of midair in front of Faith. Tyler immediately stormed forward, his eyes rapidly growing brighter.

"Why did you call me out of there?" he yelled at Faith. "I could have obliterated him!"

"But that's not what was supposed to happen," said Precog, who Faith echoed.

"But it could have happened! Do you want something like Ault to be released on innocent people—on us?!"

"No," Lindsey replied, "but we can't screw with time. It's not right. If Precog said it wasn't supposed to happen, then it didn't happen."

There was a sharp knock on the door.

"Hello?" said an Arabian-sounding man. "Is everything alright in there?"

"We're fine," Anthony and Lindsey responded together, but the door opened nonetheless.

"I just heard yelling and I thought I'd-" He cut of at the sight of Tyler, whose eyes were now a brilliant red-orange. Tyler instantly calmed down. "Were your eyes just on fire?"

"So what if they were?" Tyler responded. Anthony smacked the back of his head.

"My name is Mohinder Suresh. I'm a scientist studying the phenomena of so-called 'super-human powers'. I don't think that you r eyes being on fire constitutes normal, nor do I believe any of you find this new. Might I come in?"

Lindsey looked at Tyler, who glanced at Faith, shot an unreadable look at Anthony, who shrugged.

"Sure," said the latter, "just don't get dirt on the rug."


	2. Chapter 2

Heroes and Saviors

Chapter 2: Insufficient Data

Tyler left as quickly as possible. He didn't like Suresh, just like he didn't like the rest of the world. Nobody liked him, so why shouldn't he return the favor?

"Once again, you turn down the opportunity for answers," said an all-too-familiar voice from above him.

"Leave me alone," Tyler muttered, not looking back to make eye contact with Josh. "I'm not in the mood to listen to your crap."

"Well, excuse me for caring." Josh jumped down from the building he was standing on, unfolding his wings as he fell so that he could land without killing himself. "So who's this Indian guy?"

Tyler glanced over his shoulder; the winged man was now walking alongside him.

"He calls himself Suresh," Tyler replied reluctantly. "He's a bio-geneticist or something like that. He said he was 'interested', but I don't know about him."

"He may have been trying to help; you never know." Josh paused for a moment to look into Tyler's eyes knew a moment later that the scientist wasn't the problem.

Tyler stopped and turned around. Josh had stopped walking. "What?"

"What happened at the Bennett house?" Josh asked.

"Nothing." Tyler continued walking. "Absolutely nothing."

------

Hundreds of thousands of miles away, Hiro Nakamura was trying to perfect his ability to control time and space. He would make the clock move ahead, then try to move it back to the exact position it had started in. Sometimes he would stop too soon, sometimes too late. Sometimes he would be a mere minute off; sometimes he made time stop an hour from his destination. He was getting better, but he still needed practice.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Come in," Hiro said in his native Japanese. The door opened, and Ando, his long-time best friend stepped into the office.

"Well, you've really come a long way, _Mr. Nakamura_," Ando mused. "Now you have everything you need: power, money—"

"A hero does not need money," Hiro replied nobly.

"Then maybe you could give it to me?" They both laughed, but were cut off by another knock at the door.

"Mr. Nakamura, there is a message here for you," declared the office mail-runner. "It's from your father. It's about your destiny."

This excited Hiro. He had always tried to convince his father that he was meant for something greater; perhaps this was his father's way of accepting his son's choices.

The envelope the mail-runner handed Hiro contained a DVD, which was promptly inserted into the player.

"Hiro." His father's voice was refreshing to him. "If you are watching this, then I am dead." Hiro and Ando exchanged intrigued glances, and then continued to watch the video.

"In the safe, there is an object that could lead to the destruction of the world. There are many evil people that are interested in that object. Don't let them have it. You're mission is to never open that safe." Hiro breathed a deflated sigh as the screen displayed his father's personal logo.

"Well," said Ando, "that was a bit of a let-down."

Hiro stood up and stepped over to the safe. "How do you open this thing?"

Ando stood and looked around, confused. "Were we watching the same video? Your father said _don't_ open the safe."

"Exactly," replied Hiro, "which means that he obviously wants me to open the safe."

Ando had a hard time trying to remove the confused look from his face, but he was spared the trouble as Hiro found a large blue button in a box that had been hidden on his desk. A quick press of the button and the safe popped open.

Hiro rushed over to see what had been revealed and pulled out a large manila envelope, upon which was scrawled "Press Play". Hiro did so, and the video started up again from where it left off.

"You opened the safe." Hiro was sorely embarrassed that his father had predicted his actions. "What you are holding is part of a formula that, if it fell into the wrong hands, could lead to the end of the world. This is only half of the formula, but you must never lose it. Keep it safe at all times." The logo appeared again, and the screen went black.

"A formula?" Hiro looked at the piece of paper he had pulled out of the envelope. It was a bunch of shapes and words he could not understand.

"I wish I had paid more attention in chemistry," Ando said.

Suddenly, the door flew open and there was an incredible wind. Hiro looked down at his hands to discover, to his horror, that the formula was gone.

Hiro focused, and a second later, time had stopped. He looked around for a moment, trying to locate the source of the wind, but instead found something peculiar: starting from where Ando was standing, a trail of red and blue led out of the office. Hiro followed it out of the room. It looked solid, but was like walking through water. He looked around in the room just outside of the office. After some searching, he traced the trail to a blonde girl who looked like she was only about twenty.

Suddenly, she turned. "What did you do to me?" she spat. Hiro was taken aback. He had stopped time, so why hadn't she stopped? "Are you a speedster, too?"

"Speedster?" Hiro replied, befuddled. So she was fast. Hiro concluded that if she had a power that couldn't be affected by his power, then she must be…

"Are you a villain?" Hiro asked, now a bit more confident.

"No, I'm just doing my job. So what _do_ you do?"

Hiro lifted his chin. "I control time and space."

The girl cocked her head. "So when you wake up, will time be normal?"

Now Hiro cocked his head. "I'm not—"

The girl hit him hard in his chin, and he blacked out. At the same instant, time started again, and she disappeared.

------

Sylar was in a particularly uncharacteristic mood as he walked down the street, away from the Bennett house. He had obtained the power he had sought, and now he had a shopping list of abilities to find.

As if to lighten his mood even more, a police cruiser ripped around the corner and blocked his path. He watched as a male and a female officer jumped out of the car and pulled their guns on him. He stood and watched as the woman shot him in the chest. He looked down at where the bullet had gone in, then reached in and pulled it out as the skin and muscle reshaped itself. Sylar then proceeded to throw the woman off her feet and the man into the car's windshield.

"Now that's not very nice," said an unfamiliar voice from behind him. He turned to see who was talking.

A somewhat scrawny young man in his early twenties was staring at Sylar through half-moon spectacles that reflected light in such a way that his eyes could not be seen. His hair was a thick black mat, unruly throughout and almost covering the glasses. Sylar was proud of his ability to see how things worked, but he could not understand why some random boy had called him on his methods. Unless…

"So what can you do?" Sylar taunted. "Paint pretty pictures? Fly away? Shoot laser beams?"

"Actually," the boy said, mimicking Sylar's tone as the sidewalk broke apart and floated up to shoulder height, "I was never fond of any of those powers. You see, I was always the lazy one in my family. I didn't like to do the heavy lifting." The chunks of sidewalk flew at Sylar, but he was able to stop them at the last minute with his own telekinesis. "Now, however, it's a different story entirely."

"So, you do what I do." Sylar let the concrete slabs fall to the ground, where they shattered. "But you don't use your hands. Now that's just odd." His hand flew up and out in front of him, and the boy lifted up off the ground.

"Hm. I've seen better," the boy said, a distinct tint of boredom in his voice. He cocked his head, and Sylar flew across the street, where he hit and destroyed a mailbox. The boy floated down to the ground, landing gracefully on one foot. "Now," he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose, "where shall I begin?"

Sylar pushed himself up off the ground, holding his hands out in front of him again, but not using telekinesis just yet. This kid was tricky, but everybody had a weakness, even if it was well hidden.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself." The boy bowed, an overly-dramatic stage bow that Sylar was more than used to. "My name is Eric, and I believe you are Sylar."

Sylar saw his chance. He readied his telekinesis to split the boy's head, but was blown backwards off his feet.

Eric stood, a look of curiosity on his face. "Now why would I be dumb enough to let you look at my brain?"

Sylar stood again, now realizing just how futile this fight was going to be. He turned to walk away. "I have places to go," he said, but as he tried to walk away, his feet were ripped out from under him and he fell on his back. As he tried to focus, Eric appeared over him, looking down at him like a person looking down at a misbehaved puppy.

"I don't think I was done," the boy taunted. He held out his hand and flicked it upward, and Sylar was instantly raised into the air. Eric eyed the man for a minute, then smiled. "Okay, so I practiced force, you practiced precision. I focused on expanding my ability, you used yours to get more power. I think we have our differences, but I also think we can help each other."

"And why do I have a reason to help you?"

Eric smiled even wider. "Because you want to learn how to teleport."

------

Dr. Suresh had been talking for a very long time, and Lindsey was getting bored. She knew all of this genetic b.s., but she didn't understand how any of this helped her at all. She was proud of her power, and nothing that this man said would ever change that.

Anthony was apparently even more bored than she was. "How long is this going to take?" he shot, cutting across Suresh mid-sentence. "I've got places to be."

"Oh," Suresh stammered, apparently not even aware that the group he was talking to was not exactly all-ears. "Right, sorry. Anyway, I've been working on a formula that can remove abilities, but I can't figure out where the powers originate. My father predicted that it was in the brain, but he was unsuccessful in discovering where in the brain."

Christina spoke for the first time in hours. "The trigger is in the brain, sure, but if the whole power is centered in one place, then how do you explain metamorphosis or necro-transmutation? Are you saying that mine and Lindsey's powers are fake?"

"Absolutely not," Suresh retaliated, "but remember, this wasn't my theory; it was my father's. It's only a starting point. For all we know, he could've been dead wrong."

"I'll bet he was," said Anthony, not paying the slightest bit of attention. "Look, I can't stay, I have someone I have to meet." And he teleported out of the room.

After watching the black smoke clear in Anthony's aftermath, Suresh looked quizzically at Lindsey. "How does he do that without focusing?"

"What do you mean?" Lindsey responded.

"I've met someone else who can teleport, but they have to focus all of their attention on their power. Your friend just teleported as though he just stepped outside, without any form of focus whatsoever."

"I guess it's from experience," Faith said hesitatively.

"So the trigger could be in the mind…," Suresh muttered to himself.

"Unless it's muscle memory," Lindsey offered. Suresh looked up, unsure of what she meant. So she tried to explain. "I transform all the time. In fact, I've done it so much that sometimes my body instantly turns into one of the forms I use most often—tiger, bear, gorilla, powerful animals. If I'm consciously thinking about transforming, but unconsciously turn into a form without meaning to, doesn't that constitute that it's my body—and not my mind—that triggers the details?"

Suresh looked at Lindsey for a moment, trying to grasp what she had said. Then a look of pure revelation appeared on his face. "I have to go," he said suddenly, and he ran out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Conspiracy

Matt Parkman followed Clay all the way to the other side of town and to the top floor of an old, broken-down apartment similar to the one his father had lived in. Clay stopped at door number 213 and knocked.

"Who is it?" came a woman's voice.

"It's Clay, open up." The door opened slightly, but not enough to see who had done so. After a brief moment, the door opened all the way.

"Who is this?" the woman standing there said. Her hair was mostly black and tied into a ponytail, the end of which was white.

"Matt Parkman," Clay said. "He needs your help. You can check him out if you'd like, but we need to make it fast."

The woman stared Matt down for several minutes, hardly blinking. After about five minutes, she spoke and held out her hand.

"Hello, Matt," she said as the cop shook her hand. "I'm Megan Pravatt, and I'm going to do what I can to find out who shot Nathan, but I need you to come inside."

Matt nodded, then followed Clay into the apartment.

As they entered into the main area, a voice called from a different room, "Who is it?"

"It's just Clay and a cop, Cameron," Megan called back as she sat down on the nearest chair. "This will take a few minutes, but please don't try to read my mind," she said to Matt. "Psychic interference makes the process a lot slower and it gives me a headache." Matt nodded.

"Don't you need to eat something first?" Clay asked her. She shook her head.

"I only need food if I'm trying to dig through people's heads, and if I can locate whoever shot Nathan, those thoughts will be fresh on their mind."

She closed her eyes and laid back as a dark-skinned man who looked like he could have played professional football entered the room.

"She's already gone, isn't she?" the man asked Clay, who nodded. The man looked at Matt. "So you're a cop?"

"Yeah," Matt said. "Well, technically—"

"We don't worry about technicalities. Anthony has been on leave for about seven years now, but he'll get back on the force eventually." He stepped forward, holding out his arm. "Cameron Keffer," he said as Matt took his hand. "Never was sure why Megan chose to keep her last name, but I guess it's not my problem."

It wasn't until then that Matt noticed the ring on Cameron's finger. He looked over at Megan. Same ring.

Matt dismissed his past for the moment. Right now, they needed to find who had shot Nathan.

------

Eric walked behind Sylar as they entered the terminal. Their plane would be taking off in an hour, and that was just fine. Eric had decided to arrive on purpose to brief Sylar about what he was going up against.

Sylar turned around to look at Eric, then spoke for the first time in a few hours. "Exactly why do I want to listen to you again?"

"For a couple reasons," Eric said coolly. "First, I'm better than you." Sylar shot him a look of pure hatred, but he ignored it. "Second, I'm taking you to some of the best powers in the world. You should be grateful; I'm not usually such a cooperative person."

Sylar shook his head. This was ridiculous.

"I'm sorry? Did you say something?" Eric taunted, obviously aware of Sylar's impatience. He smiled, then looked around at all the people walking around the airport. "Do you want to see something cool?" he said.

"Not really," Sylar replied, incredibly annoyed at this point.

"Oh, come on. It's cool, I promise."

"Fine," Sylar snapped. "Just make it fast."

Suddenly, a woman standing about twenty yards behind Eric flew across the room, screaming. She stopped just short of the wall on the opposite side of the room, then fell to the ground. People that had just been watching the sight started screaming and running every which way. Sylar looked around at the state of mass panic that Eric had just created.

"Now, if you look closely," Eric said as though he did this on a daily basis, "you can see who has powers and who doesn't, just by looking into their eyes."

"What's the point of this?"

Eric smiled again. "To see if you can restrain yourself. I doubt you can, and honestly, that's fine with me. But I'll go ahead and pick someone out for you." He turned his head for a moment to look around, then nodded. "Look over there." Sylar complied. "See the little girl, next to the trash can?"

Sylar did in fact see a small child, probably about four or five, clutching a stuffed bear. "Yeah, what about her?"

"She can fly."

Sylar shot Eric an incredulous look, unsure how he could possibly know something like that. Eric caught the glance, but did not respond. He simply looked at the girl.

"How do you know?" Sylar inquired.

"The eyes." Eric turned back to his present company. "You can always tell by the eyes."

------

Peter Petrelli was having a really bad day. Apparently, his future self had come back from the future to try to save the past. It hadn't worked, and now he was stuck in a stranger's body with his own mind. He didn't know if the man had any special powers, but he would have loved to get out of him and back into a state that he knew had the potential to escape.

The man in the next cell had been shooting blue fire at the window looking in on him for hours, and frankly, it was getting annoying. The cell on Peter's other side showed no signs of life whatsoever, and he wasn't sure which side was more distressing.

From somewhere out of sight, the man Peter knew as Noah Bennett appeared accompanied by someone who he did not recognize. The two men spoke for a moment, then the stranger nodded and left Noah there to stand and stare at Peter.

"I'm Peter Petrelli!" Peter started yelling yet again. "I shouldn't be here! You have to let me out!" Noah simply stared, not reactive at all to the sudden outbursts from the man he knew was clearly not Peter Petrelli, but was in fact Jesse Murphy, a man that under no circumstances was to be let out of his cage.

Peter slammed his fists into the glass as Noah walked away.

------

Anthony reappeared several thousand miles away, in an empty terminal at an airport. He looked around for a moment, did not find who he was looking for, and was about to leave when a young girl curled up in a corner caught his eye. He walked over to her. Nothing about the way she was sitting comforted him at all, and he was almost fearful of what he would discover as he reached out his hand to her.

He backed up several paces at what he saw. The girl was dead, clutching a stuffed bear in her rigid arms. Her skull had been sliced open so that the brain was more than visible, and a piece of her brain was missing. Anthony bent over where he stood and threw up. Averting his eyes, he reached out for the girl and teleported her out with him.

As he left, Eric reappeared. He had instructed Sylar where he could meet some very interesting people and allowing him to go about his business. Now all that was left for Eric to do was to catch the next plane to Santa Anna.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Rhythms

Kaitlynn stepped off the plane in Santa Anna a mere minute before Eric. She didn't know that he had followed her here, but she had felt safer for some reason during the flight. She didn't know why; she just had.

She looked around as she stepped toward baggage claim. She had only one bag—a dark blue duffel bag with two black shoulder straps. However, as she neared the rotating conveyer belt, the bag was not there. She didn't panic because she didn't want to take the chance of someone recognizing her. Still, the bag had been given to her by her brother, and it was not something she was eager to get rid of. She looked around the immediate area for it, but it was not there.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking, then split into four different Kaitlynns. The original looked at the copies. "Don't stop looking until you find it," she said, a tint of worry in her voice. "I want it back now." The clones nodded, then took off in different directions.

Kaitlynn watched each of them until they were out of sight, then sat down and buried her face in her hands. That bag had some of her most valuable possessions in it: a clock her mother had given her; her cell phone; her father's old pocket knife; and her diary, one of the only two things in the world that she kept no secrets from.

"Is there a problem?" said a very familiar voice. Her head shot up to see if her imagination was playing tricks on her again.

Eric stood a mere four feet away, looking genuinely concerned about the condition of his sister. He always looked tired, but today in particular, he looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks.

Kaitlynn shot up and threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry," she said, crying for the first time in years. "I lost your bag, I don't know—"

Eric put her hand over her mouth and shook his head. "It's okay," he said. "I don't really care. But what was in the bag?"

"A bunch of useless crap," she replied, half laughing and half crying now that she knew the bag didn't matter. "It had my money in it, though."

Eric looked around as Kaitlynn had, but instead of looking for the bag, he was searching people's eyes for that indescribable look that came over people when they came into possession of something without noting its value. In a moment, he found what he was looking for.

He lifted his hand to point at the blonde woman and flicked his wrist. She collapsed, unnoticed by everyone.

Eric and Kaitlynn stepped towards her as she lie shaking on the ground, clutching the dark blue duffel bag. Kaitlynn reached down and took it from her. It was indeed hers, and after a quick lunch, they headed outside.

------

"Found him."

Megan opened her eyes and sat up as Cameron returned to the room with a tray of coffee and cookies. Clay stood and stretched, and Matt yawned.

"So where is he?" Matt asked sleepily.

"He keeps jumping from one place to another. It's like he knows how to teleport."

Cameron and Clay exchanged worried looks.

"Relax," Megan reassured them just as Matt took a breath to speak. "I already checked; it's not Anthony." Megan looked out the window and sighed. "Although, Anthony's not exactly having the time of his life, either."

Matt looked at the three of them, then stood. "I'm sorry, I've got to get back to the crime scene and make sure that we didn't miss anything."

"Maybe I should go with you," Cameron suggested. "I obviously can't read minds, but I think I can help you some."

Matt looked at Megan, knowing how she would feel if her husband was gone too long, but she shrugged. Matt nodded to Cameron, and after about twenty minutes, they were back at the building where Nathan had been shot.

Cameron looked around for a moment. "I don't think I've ever been here," he said. "You may need to show me around."

"Later," Matt replied. "Right now, I need to go check-" At that moment, Peter Petrelli caught his eye. He seemed distracted, and was going into an area that no one had been to for a while.  
"I'll be right back," Matt told Cameron, and started to walk toward Peter.

Peter stepped into a broom closet near one of the main offices. He reached behind a paint can on one of the shelves and attempted to hide the gun that he had hid there, but not before Matt opened the door behind him.

"So," Matt said, eyeing the gun, "how did you know where to find that?"

Peter locked eyes with Matt for a moment, then changed back into himself. "You wouldn't understand what's going on here," the Peter from the future told the cop. "It's bigger than you."

"What did you do with Peter?" Matt demanded, but Peter ignored him. He placed his hand on Matt's shoulder, and the latter blacked out.

Meanwhile, Cameron was still looking around, searching for something without knowing what he was searching for. He was used to paradoxes like this, though; they had faced something similar when they had fought Ault. Ault had taken Lindsey's and Anthony's abilities during that fight, and both powers made it incredibly difficult to stop him. But they had.

As Peter stepped out of the broom closet, Cameron's eyes locked up with his own. "Regeneration," he mouthed, and as Cameron stepped forward to confront him, he vanished.

------

Anthony was having a very bad day. The second he had teleported to his precinct back in Boise, Idaho, he had been arrested on suspicion of murder, and not of the little girl, either. He couldn't get anyone to speak with him about the situation, nor would anyone listen to him about the girl. Also, someone had apparently heard of his remarkable aptitude for removing himself from trouble, and the man sitting just outside his cell with a semi-automatic rifle was making him nervous.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to comprehend what had gone wrong with the world. Seven years ago, no one would have confused him for someone who could kill a man in cold blood; he was too good for that. Now, however, he didn't know who he could trust or who would even consider helping him.

Suddenly, the man with the rifle stood up, looking down the hall from the cell.

"Who the hell are you?" the man asked frantically. As if in response to the question, the man flew through the air, smashing into the wall at the end of the hallway a moment later.

"Eric?" Anthony called out, jumping up to look through the bars. His heart fell into his stomach as Sylar stepped into view.

"No," the villain said cruelly. "Why, were you expecting him?"

------

Nathan Petrelli stepped out of the church across the street from the hospital he had been staying in. A quick glance up at the sky, and he was ready to begin his journey to make the world a better place.

Suddenly, as if God himself were welcoming him upward, an angel flew overhead at speeds to match his own. Nathan didn't hesitate; he looked around quickly to make sure no one was looking, then took off after the winged being.

Josh, on the other hand, was feeling something completely opposite. He was flying in a vain attempt to escape his own problems, his past, and what hope he had abandoned seven years ago. The world had gone and twisted itself uncontrollably, and there was no way to fix it now.

"Hey!" called a voice from behind him. He turned to see who had called out to him and was surprised to see that there was a man in a business suit following him through the air.

Josh looked down for a moment to see if there was a place they could land. He located one quickly, then turned in midair and dove toward it. Nathan, though perplexed by the sudden change in direction, followed.

At about the same time, Noah Bennett looked up into the sky to try and predict what the weather would be for that day. He watched the two men land about a half-mile away, then got in his car and took off after them.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Complications

"Who are you?" Josh demanded before Nathan even touched down. "Why are you following me?"

"Calm down," Nathan said, trying to reassure him. "I'm Senator Nathan Petrelli, and I just want to help you."

"Help me do what?" Josh almost laughed. "I've already got my power under control, even if it is a little on the weak side. What could you possibly be able to help me with?"

"I don't know," Nathan said lamely, "I just thought that maybe—"

"Maybe you should go," interrupted a voice from the entrance to the warehouse they had landed in.

Josh turned to see who had spoken before Nathan had a chance to think. The sight of his brother almost caused him to panic; he grabbed Nathan and took off through the roof.

Silas looked up at the hole his older sibling had made and shook his head disapprovingly. "Come now, Josh," he said, seemingly to himself, "there was no need to make a mess."

"Who the hell are you?" said yet another unfamiliar voice from behind Silas, accompanied by the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. Silas chuckled.

"Do you really think you can kill me with that pea-shooter?" he scoffed without turning around. He ripped off the black overcoat he was wearing to reveal his single large black wing and his even larger sword, the latter of which was wrapped in bandages. Drawing the sword, he turned around. "Noah Bennett, do you know why this sword is covered in these rags?"

------

Eric had known that Anthony would get into some form of trouble if he was left alone, so he arranged for Kaitlynn to continue to New York alone while he went off to Idaho. Kaitlynn only agreed after some persuasion, for she knew how easy it was for the three of them to lose track of each other and had the feeling that at least one of them would never be seen again.

"Come on," Eric had laughed. "You think any one of the three of us will be at _anyone's_ mercy? Kaitlynn, I've…" But Kaitlynn stopped him there.

"Please, don't." She stepped forward and hugged him as the intercom called out that the 12:30 to New York was now boarding. "You're not that person anymore; leave him in the past."

Eric nodded. He had rid himself of that past and was no longer willing to kill for the sake of killing. "Now go," he said, "get to New York. Find Megan, and tell her to keep in touch."

Kaitlynn reached down and picked up the duffel bag, gave Eric one more sideways glance, then walked off. Eric watched her until the speaker called out that the 12:35 to Boise was boarding, then headed off to his own terminal.

------

"I've heard about you," Sylar said darkly as iron bars of the cell broke away and fell to the floor. "You were the one that he was talking about. The teleporter."

"You're mistaken," Anthony said, trying to think quickly without giving Sylar a reason to kill him. "I'm not the one—" Sylar cut him off, lifting him up off the ground and blocking his wind pipe.

"Don't. Your brother's already told me all about you."

"Speaking of which," came a female voice from behind Sylar. He turned around to see who was there and was caught in the face by the hardest fist that had ever connected with him. Anthony fell to the ground as Sylar flew through the wall. Anthony looked up to see who had come to his rescue and was elated to make eye contact with Carmen, the woman who had introduced them to Savior.

"Are you alright?" she asked sincerely, bending down to help Anthony up.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He looked through the wall to see if Sylar was still there. He wasn't. "We need to go now."

"Oh, no you don't," came Sylar's voice. They looked around, trying to find him, but it seemed as though he had completely disappeared.

"Come on, Anthony, we're going now," Carmen said, and she disappeared in a flash of light. Anthony nodded, then vanished in an explosion of shadow.

Sylar entered the room again, perplexed at the sudden change in the power he had been so used to witnessing. Hiro Nakamura always just vanished; there had never been any flashy variation of that power. Now there were two.

"That's alright," Sylar said to the empty room, "I can find you."

------

Josh had released Nathan, knowing that the politician would follow him. As they flew hurriedly away from the warehouse, he looked back at it. It was still standing, which meant that Silas had controlled his temper up until this point.

Nathan obscured his view a moment later. "Mind telling me what we're running from?" he yelled.

"In a few minutes, maybe," Josh replied, checking to make sure his sword was secure on his back. "We need to get as far from here as…." He cut off, distracted by the warehouse again. A dark figure was rising slowly into the air, through the hole that Josh had created. "Oh, of course he's going to follow us," Josh said, more to himself than to Nathan. He stopped midair, yelling, "Keep going!" to the Senator. Nathan nodded, then flew away as fast as he could.

Josh turned around to see where Silas was and almost collided with him.

"Why are you so afraid?" Silas taunted. He was staying airborne with only one wing, a feat that Josh had never been able to understand. "Are you scared of me?"

"I won't fight you if people can be hurt," Josh retorted, unable to keep his true feelings out of his voice.

"You know I don't like liars," Silas said emotionlessly. In one fluid motion, his sword came around to attempt to knock Josh out of the sky, and just as quickly, Josh's sword clashed with it. "You've become faster," Silas stated simply. He twisted unnaturally and elbowed Josh in the chest; he stuttered for a moment, then fell out of the sky.

------

Noah Bennett awoke several miles away on the outskirts of town. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, nor was he sure that he cared to know. He stood and looked around for a moment, then reached for his cell phone. He didn't find it. Instead, he found a small piece of paper that appeared as though it had been ripped off something. On it was a single word: "SAVIOR".

He contemplated the chances that he would ever come across the word again. They were good.

He looked around again, trying to get a feel for where he was. There was no road anywhere near him—just a bed of rocks. Had he been teleported here? What had happened?

"Think, Noah," he said to himself. "You were going after the two men that had been flying…." He stopped. Now he remembered.

The third man that had been there had obviously not been someone the first two wanted to be associated with, for they had flown away incredibly fast when they had noticed him. Noah had been precautionary and had drawn his gun before confronting him.

"Wait," Noah said, reaching for his gun. It was gone.

The man had torn off his black trench coat to reveal a single black wing and a large, heavy-looking sword. He had said something about the bandages the sword was wrapped in, then swung it around with one arm, striking Noah in the stomach. There had been a horrible pain, then darkness.

He looked at the paper again. "Savior," Noah he read aloud. "Is that a password or something?"

"It's an 'or something,'" came an unfamiliar female voice from behind him.


End file.
